


cherry chapstick

by lovelyethereal



Series: Stenbrough Fics [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Angst, Fights, First Kiss, Fluff, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, background reddie and benverly, bill loves stan and vice versa, everyone loves and supports one another, sorta angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:46:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyethereal/pseuds/lovelyethereal
Summary: Bill is jealous of Stan’s new friends and calls him out on the lack of interest he seems to have for the losers club. A fight ensues and Stan just can’t keep the way he feels in for much longer.This is set in modern day and as always everyone is aged up.





	cherry chapstick

The cafeteria seems more crowded than usual today, groups of people congregated at their own tables, each seemingly designated to certain groups. The setup reminded Bill of _**Mean Girls**_ as he looked around from where their table was, nestled in a dark corner. Ben and Mike were on Bill's right side, arguing over something they discussed in their Government class, Bev and Richie had snuck outside amidst the crowds of hungry youth to smoke behind the school. Eddie sat straight across from Mike, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, forking through the various foods slopped onto his tray.

Bill couldn't find it in him to mind the mess of mashed potatoes and processed turkey on his plate tray, shoving piece after piece, scoop after scoop into his mouth. He would be lying if he said he wasn't attempting to eat his feelings. "Slow down, Big Bill, or you'll choke." Richie snarked as he made his way back to the table, sitting next to Eddie. The gangly mess curly hair leaned forward to peck Eddie's lips but the smaller of the two rose his hand to dodge the assault.

"Not until you brush your teeth. Thoroughly." Eddie warned, jabbing his fork toward Richie, who looked a bit offended. His hurt deepened when he glanced over and saw Ben happily share messy kisses with his girlfriend, he obviously didn't seem to mind the taste of nicotine. Bill began to tune on there conversations, staring directly ahead in the direction of the one person that he wished was sitting with them.

Stan's eyes lit up when Bethany or Tiffany or whatever her name was cracked a joke, the entire table buzzing with laughter. Stan smiled, a very obviously genuine smile and it was one that Bill absolutely adored. Stan seemed to feel the eyes on him and turned his head in Bill's direction. He offered a small smile, lips pressed together with a small, seemingly meaningless wave of his hand. Bill returned it, and although his heart broke he kept his feelings in.

"So who's hosting tonight?" Mike asked, stabbing a piece of broccoli off his tray and shoving it into his mouth. Bill trained his eyes on the food scattered across the red plastic in front of him until he registered the eyes now locked on him.

"Wh-what?" He asked, shrinking back slightly.

"It's your turn to host movie night, remember?" Beverly reminded, crossing her arms over the table, cocking her head to the side.

"Oh, y-yeah. I f-forgot." Bill sighed, poking at the turkey in front of him again, shoving a piece into his mouth.

"Do you think Stan'll come?" Eddie asked, accepting the arm that Richie tossed over his shoulder and the kiss he placed against his temple. Bill bit his tongue to keep his mouth shut, though he did roll his eyes.

"Why wouldn't he?" Bev asked.

"In case you haven't noticed, he's been a little busy lately." Ben retorted softly, picking up a pea on his fork and eyeing it with disgust.

"I have a class with him later, I can ask him." Mike offered and when no one objected before the bell rang, he decided that was the best plan. The bell for everyone to head back to class rang and the group dispersed.

  
Bill made his way toward the living room when he heard the front door open signifying that one of the losers had arrived. Stan had said he would come, but Bill decided not to hold his breath. "Honey, I'm home!" Richie yelled rather obnoxiously. Bill turned the corner, revealing four of the six losers he was expecting; Eddie, Richie, Beverly, and Ben. Richie had already made himself comfortable, sprawled out across the sofa with Beverly sitting on his chest, legs dangling over the edge.

"Bill, I think there's something wrong with your couch. It's really lumpy and uncomfortable." Beverly began to wiggle and jump, emitting grunts of pain from the gangly teen.

"Get off of me, you whale." Richie groaned, pushing at the girl.

"And it's very disrespectful." Bill chuckles and walks forward to grab her hand and help her off of him. Richie gasps dramatically, sitting up with great speed.

"V-very, it's a good th-thing my parents and Juh-Georgie w-went out tonight." He shoots a look toward Richie, grabbing the stack of movies he had gathered from around his house and laying them across the coffee table.

"Mike texted me a few minutes ago saying he's on his way but um, nothing from Stan yet." Bev smiled softly, placing a hand on his arm.

"Of course."

"I'm sure he's still coming, Bill." Ben reassured, settling into the recliner to the left of the sofa. Eddie was now in Richie's lap, the taller of the two pressing increasingly less innocent kisses to the boy's neck and collarbone.

"K-keep it PG-13, fellas." Bill warned with a stern voice, running to the kitchen to grab the chips and drinks. "If we d-don't hear from Stan by the time M-Mike get here, let's just start, a-a-agreed?" The five losers shared a look and agreed.

Mike had shown up at the Denbrough household five minutes after the mutual agreement between the losers and that had been almost two hours ago. They still hadn't heard from Stan. It wasn't like Stan to blow off his real friends.

About halfway through _**Freddy VS Jason**_ the front door flew open, revealing Stan Uris, his curls still impossibly perfect from the hood of his jacket protecting him from the wind. "Hey guys." He smiled, shutting the door soundly and entering the house after stripping off his jacket and shoes. Bill stands from his place on the loveseat next to Mike and heads into the kitchen, brushing past Stan. The others share a look, wondering what the hell his problem was. Stan follows the taller teen down the hall.

"Are you okay?" He asks once they're alone, far from the others. The movie is loud enough that Bill couldn't even comprehend the thoughts running through his head.

"Yeah I'm f-fine." Bill lied, back turned to the curly haired teen.

"Bill, I've know you since we were nine. I know when you're lying." Stan tried to persuade him. Bill took a deep breath and turned around.

"Y-you want to know the tr-truth?" Stan nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'm not f-fine, Stan. Not even close. Y-you say we're your f-friends and then you turn a-around and blow us off for some p-p-people that you just met." Bill said, placing his hands firmly in the island with a smack. From the living room, the five that remained sat in silence having muted the movie. At the sternness in Bill's tone, Eddie could tell that the conversation was serious.

"Let's give them some privacy, yeah?" He suggested, and it became clear to him that he was not the only person thinking this as the others were quick to get to their feet. All but Richie. "Richie." Eddie scolded after his boyfriend didn't move, dragging him into the guest bedroom that the others had shuffled into. Feet stomped down the hall and dissolved into thumps when they hit the carpet blanketing the living room floor.

"Blow you off?" Stan asked, somewhat amused and sounding far off, probably trailing behind Bill. "I did not blow you guys off."

"Oh, really?" Bill asked, exasperated. "Then wh-what excuse would you l-like to use today? 'Lost tr-track of time'?" Stan takes a step back, wounded. "O-or were you having such a gr-great time replacing us—your r-r-real friends—that you just f-forgot?"

"It's not like that, Bill, and you know it." Stan's voice breaks as he mentions his friends name, along with his heart. He doesn't understand how the one person he wants to be around, all day everyday, thinks he isn't important.

"I d-don't know though. Can you hon-honestly tell me that you don't l-like your new friends m-m-more than us?" Bill had crossed his arms over his chest, hair falling in front of his eyes briefly.

" _Yes_! You, and the rest of the losers, are the only true friends I have. Do you think you're expendable to me? Like I don't care about you guys anymore? Do you _honestly_ think that the thought of not being able to spend time with you every day doesn't tear me apart?" Stan throws his hands over his head, fighting the urge to tug at his curls out of frustration. Bill's eyes seem to soften at the question, and maybe he was overthinking it, but Stan's question seemed to be directed right at the stuttering teen. "Because it does."

In the other room, the losers are concentrated on the show playing on the mediocre tv set in the guest bedroom, except for Richie who has his ear pressed to the door. "Guys, I think we're gonna be in here a while."

"What makes you say that?" Beverly asked from the bed, swinging her legs over the edge and making her way toward Richie. She pressed her ear against the cold wood of the door and just listened.

"It does?" Bill asked, voice muffled through the door. From the look on Beverly's face, Richie could tell the girl was confused and so he filled her in on what had been happening.

"Yeah, it does." Back in the living room, Stan took a shaky step forward, and then another, and another until he was standing before Bill with only a foot keeping them apart. "I love you, William Denbrough."

Bill sucks in a breath so sharp it felt like a serrated knife that would slice him open, exposed to the boy in front of him. "Y-you love m-m-me?" He gasped out, his clutching at his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt in his fist and then letting go.

"Yeah," Stan smiled, lips pulled up so far and so tight that he knew it would hurt in the end. "ever since we were fourteen." Bill's lips turn upward into a crooked smile filled with shaky lips and pearly teeth. It's all he can do to take the final step forward and shakily reach his hands out to grab hold of Stan, feeling suddenly faint and lightheaded. His hands are firm on his shoulders until he loosens his grasp and slides his hands up from their place and up to the base of Stan's neck, thumbs rubbing delicate circles into the other boy's cheeks.

Stan felt as if he could die in that moment with the way Bill was staring at him, with nothing but adoration clouding his eyes. He hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Bill's pants to pull him closer, holding him there with a hand firm on his hip.

"I love you, Stanley Uris."

The words act as a bonding agent, whispering them into the shorter teens ear so only Stan could hear the confession, and it's the kiss that seals the deal for them. Stan's hands run wild, grasping and releasing Bill's shirt repeatedly before they find their proper place around the latter's neck. Bill nips at Stan's bottom lip and smirks slightly at the moan the action draws from the boy. Bill's lips move slowly,  skillfully, and languidly against Stan's, savoring the moment for as long as they could before the other losers decided to barge out from wherever they were hiding and essentially ruin their time together. Until then, he decided to log something in his memory: Stan's lips tasted of cherry chapstick.

Until someone decided to rip them away from each other with a raunchy comment or a wolf-whistle, they would continue on with their activity, with scenes from Bill's favorite slasher movie playing behind them.


End file.
